Alphabet
by White.Black.Truth.Lies
Summary: A series of unconnected oneshots based on words that start with a particular letter in the alphabet. In other words, an A to Z of Alex Rider. Enjoy!
1. A is for Agony

**AN: This is the first of my new fic, this will be a series of unrelated one-shots based on a random word that begins with one of the letters of the alphabet. If it relates in any way to anyone else's fic, I apologize, I don't know everything that is on the Alex Rider category (as much as I would like to) so if it does seem to copy one of your own stories please tell me and I will either delete it, fix it so it isn't copied too severely or dedicate the chapter to you. If anyone has an idea I will dedicate that chapter to you too.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the happy leprechaun that is trying to dance on my head.**

**Agony –**

Alex Rider smiled widely at Jack, trying to make the action reach his eyes. The usual knot of weariness that rested in his stomach reared its head, growling it's annoyance at the display of emotion.

The smile faltered, and Alex bowed his head quickly so Jack would not notice.

"Have you got your Philosophy homework?" Jack asked suddenly, through a mouthful of toast.

"Yes."

"Biology, English, Drama, Chemistry?"

"Yes, yes, yes and yes." Alex murmured, flicking through his workbooks to make sure.

"Alright Al, have a nice day."

"Kay, Jack."

Another weak smile and Alex was practically running out the door.

It hurt so much to try and fake his happiness. Especially around Jack. At school there was always a crush of excited, happy, bored people whose own emotions masked Alex's own indifference and pain.

And apart from Tom, no one made any effort to try and notice the druggie.

But with Jack, when they were all alone in the house, there was nothing to shield him, nothing to hide what he was feeling or silence his screams for help, conscious pleas or not.

It was agony.

It was worse then the cuts and bruises, the scars and the broken bones he returned home with. It was worse then the mind games, the villains, MI6.

Worse then being hated, revolted, pitied.

No one understood. Jack, Tom… they gasped and glared at the superficial injuries, but when he tried to talk to them, they flinched away until he shut up, until he retreated into himself.

They wanted him to be normal, to go back to being the Old Alex. But it wasn't going to happen.

So the shield was formed and the coldness began.

The agony started.

**AN: Hope you liked, next chapter – B = Bedtime.**


	2. B is for Bedtime

**B=Bedtime-**

**Disclaimer: I doubt I own Alex Rider, let me just go ask my apple...**

**Nope, my apple said I don't own anything, and that I am insane. I ignored it. **

One of the memories Alex Rider had never been able to block out when his Uncle Ian had died; was the rare, warm moments when Ian was home and he tucked Alex into bed.

Ian would give Alex a glass of warm milk, sometimes, if Alex had been good enough he would be allowed a chocolate cookie or two. Ian would read a book for twenty minutes or until they had finished a chapter, then he would place the book back down on the bedside table for the next day's reading. He would lean over, touch the top of Alex's head briefly, pause, and then whisper a goodnight before turning around and walking out the door. But he would always stop and look back with a fond smile before Alex's bedroom door closed and darkness descended.

It was those moments that made Alex think twice about his theory that Ian hadn't loved him or cared about him. It was the night's that Ian was home to tuck him into bed that Alex could always be seen smiling happily. Not a care in the world.

**AN: short, simple, I lot different to what I originally planned. I got an anonymous review from – x, they suggested I use the word control for C. It was a great suggestion, and I am very pleased that you took the time to make one, but I have already written C, surprisingly it was easier to write then B and I got impatient. I don't want to make you think you wasted your time though, I did consider rewriting it but I liked Crying to much to change. Maybe I can think of a synonym for control and use the same idea for another letter. If I do, I will dedicate the chapter to you. Thank you for the suggestion x. Lies.**

**Next, C is for Crying. **


	3. C is for Crying

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

**AN: Enjoy!**

**C=Crying**

Alex turned the corner of the school building, hand holding his blistering shoulder; the entire limb was in pain. Alex spent a moment cursing Darren in every way possible. Stupid bully, stupid lucky punch, stupid, stupid, stupid, stu.. Tom?

Alex Rider stopped in his tracks.

Black hair glinted dully in the sun, the body attached to it shuddering. Quiet sobs split through the air, wet droplets clogged particles of dust together.

"Tom..." Alex breathed. Tom stilled. The hiccupping stopped and Alex could tell Tom was holding his breath.

"Tom?" Tom, already facing away, twisted even more so it was impossible for Alex to catch even a glimpse of his best friends face.

"Yes, Alex?" Tom's voice was strangled.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" A sharp sting in the tone alerted Alex of the lie.

"You know Tom, you can talk to me. I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

Tom shook his head. "There's nothing to tell, there's no secret. I have to go." Tom got to his feet, moving as if to jump over the school's boundary fence.

"School's about to start."

"So?"

Alex sighed.

"Please, maybe I can help."

Tom snorted. "Yeah, right, no, you can't help me Alex, you can't fix everything, no one can, not even some teenage wonder-boy spy."

"That was uncalled for Tom." Alex whispered, taking a step toward his mate.

"I don't care, nothing matters anymore."

Tom wiped his cheeks; Alex could tell he was trying to be discreet. But this was Tom; he was clumsy, loud, brash, not what you would call discreet or careful. So Alex saw the flinch, and when Tom dropped his hand Alex saw the blood as well, smeared in with the salt water on the back of Tom's hand.

"Tom, turn around."

"No."

"Do it Tom, I don't mind making you."

"It's not any of your business Alex" Tom's voice was rising.

"Like hell it's not! You're my best mate Tom! Who hurt you!"

"No-one!"

"You hurt yourself?" Alex's voice was sceptical.

"No."

"Was it Darren?" Alex asked, remembering the time the bully had beaten Tom up for hanging around with a druggie.

"No."

"Someone else... who?"

Tom spun around. "I told you! No-one!"

Alex looked at the bruises, the cut, and the broken nose. "No-one, huh?" Alex hissed. "You're sure about that? If you lie again I'm calling your parents."

There. A flinch. No way... No!

"You're parents?"

Tom hung his head. That was all the confirmation Alex needed.

Tom's shoulders shook, tears started to fall again.

Alex moved forward, and without hesitation, wrapped an arm around his best mate's shoulders.

"How long?"

He didn't need to say anything more; Tom buried his head in the crook between his shoulder and neck.

"Four years, six months, seventeen days."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I, I," Tom broke off, shaking his head.

"Is it your mum or your dad?"

"It, it's mum, dad can't stop her, she's bloody strong." There was a pause. "He loves her too much."

"He loves you too."

"Not as much as her, when she starts he locks himself in their room, or leaves the house."

"Four years. God, Tom, why didn't you tell me?"

"I, I don't know, I guess, I didn't think. I don't know Alex." Tom sighed. Pulling away he wiped his eyes, wincing as he brushed the cut.

"You have to go to the sickbay."

"NO! They'll ask what happened!"

"You have to tell someone, you can't just let her keep doing this."

"Not the sickbay!"

Alex sighed. "Fine, we're skipping, come on, Jack's not home today." He grabbed Tom's wrist and moved over to the fence Tom had been ready to jump before.

"We'll get you cleaned up and then talk about what to do about this... situation." He decided, jumping over and waiting for his friend to follow.

As Tom landed, crouching in the grass as he steadied himself, Alex smiled encouragingly. "We'll get this sorted out Tom, I promise."

**AN: Hope you liked it! Next chapter; D=Disco!**


	4. D is for Disco

**AN: Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider!**

**D=Disco**

"Jack! Which album is it in?!" Alex Rider's voice rang through the house, seeking Jack's ears as he rummaged through a cupboard.

Jack's voice floated back to him, muffled and distant. There was a clang and a smash and Alex knew she was in the kitchen.

"The top one, on the left...!"

"Thanks!" Alex shouted, moving from the bottom cupboard to peruse the top.

"Don't forget this time!"

Alex snorted, "It's not my fault if you gave me false instructions!"

"Liar!" Jack shrieked.

"You know it's true... Ah ha!" Alex laughed in triumph, emerging from the wooden box with another little box in his hands. "Found it!"

"Good for you Al! I'm glad a great spy like you is so observant!"

Alex merely chuckled and let the conversation drop in favour of opening the box and peering inside. Little squares, glossy and new, bits of ribbon, an old pencil, the corner of a yellow piece of paper... Alex stared at the boxes contents, thoroughly disappointed. The thing he was looking for wasn't there. He was about to put the lid back on when a name caught his eye. 'John.' The handwriting was bold, almost, flamboyant with its loops, yet, solid at the same time. Frowning, Alex pried the piece of paper holding the name from an old photograph and stared at it.

The letter was not long, maybe a few paragraphs, but the writing was large.

'_John,'_ it began.

'_John,_

_You may not remember me, but my name is Helen. We met at that club a week ago. What was it called? Oh right, Destinies Disco __**(1)**__ you told me I could write to you and, well, I decided to. _

_Anyway, I wanted to know if I could see you again._

_Do you think it is possible?_

_I know you said that your work takes you out of the country a lot and it is sometimes really hectic but, well, I had a great time the other night and I would really like to get to know you a little more. Why don't we have dinner? This weekend? You can pick me up at seven; maybe we can go to that new Greek restaurant, or maybe that cute little Japanese one on the Mainstreet. That is, if you want to?_

_My number is; 0423478948._

_I look forward to hearing from you John,_

_Helen_

Alex stared at the paper, clutched in shaky hands. For several minutes he stood, eyes glazed, reading and rereading the letter.

Then a flutter and a flash of red caught his attention and he looked down.

A photo lay on the floor; face down, a date and a sentence scrawled on the back in small, precise handwriting.

'_22__nd__ of September '75, Helen and I, Destinies Disco, first meeting, love at first sight.'_

Slowly, Alex knelt down, reaching out. He slipped his fingers around the edge of the photo, it bent at his touch, and he flipped it over.

A man, maybe twenty-two years of age, stood in the centre of the dance floor, his hands moving in the air and his hips frozen in a dance step that looked very peculiar. A woman stood next to him, blonde hair flying into her face as she tried to mimic him, a large smile stretching her lips as she laughed. Alex looked back at the man; it was like looking at himself in a few years.

"Dad," he whispered, tracing the figure with one finger as he looked at his mother. "Mum..." he smiled fondly at the parents he never knew; studiously taking in every detail before picking the picture up and sliding it into his pocket. He rose to his feet.

"Alex!"

"Coming Jack!" He put the box back and shut the cupboard, brushing his fingers against the picture and running down the stairs to his friend.

**AN: (1) I know it's corny; I am lazy and couldn't be bothered thinking of a better name though. **

**I hope you all liked it, and that you have had fun reading this story, for those of you that read Elimination, I am in the middle of writing the next chapter and I hope to get it up soon, the same with fed up, unfortunately, Caught may be a little while in being updated, there are two reasons for this, both of which are lame and you can feel free to yell at me about. 1, writers block, 2, I am lazy!**

**Anywho, the next chapter will of course be, E, unfortunately I do not know what E equals yet so... yeah, feel free to leave ideas if you have any in a nice, friendly review. *grin***


	5. E is for Errands

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, no matter how much it pains me to say it.**

**AN: Right, so, I hope you guys are actually liking this A to Z fic, I'm sorry I've been such a horrible updater; my internet connection has been a little... tremulous lately.**

**Anyway, without further ado, I present...**

**E=Errands**

Trouble seemed to follow Alex Rider around, Jack thought, as she stared at the large analogue clock that hung on the kitchen wall. It was attracted to him, like he was a magnet. He didn't even have to do anything; just walk out the door and it was instantly the wrong time and the wrong place.

Like that day a month ago when he came back from footy practise, beaten and bloody. Or that night a fortnight ago when Jack came back from the movies, just to be greeted by a sobbing Alex, pulling a knife from his arm; or last week, when Alex just so happened to be at a party where a major drug dealer was selling to the under aged kids in attendance.

Yes, Alex was a magnet for trouble. But surely, riding down to the milkbar for milk and bread wouldn't give him that much of a chance to encounter danger... would it?

No, no it wouldn't.

Then why, Jack thought, has it been four hours and he's still not back yet?

Another minute ticked away, another ten, another twenty... an hour.

Jack could feel the anxiousness knaw at her insides.

Five and a half hours...

Six hours...

Six and a half hours...

Seven hours...

A slam and a crash.

"Jack!"

Jack leapt to her feet, running through the kitchen to the front door.

"Alex!" she cried, flying at the boy and wrapping him in her arms. Then she pulled back and hit him on the arm.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Alex winced just as Jack noticed the bruises.

"What happened?"

Alex sighed, "I'm fine, really Jack, it's just a couple of bruises." Jack glared at the boy.

"Tell me what happened Alex."

"It was just a group of drunks."

"Right, and why did it take you seven hours to get home?" Jack's eyebrows rose in inquiry.

"Well, I may have... they were terrorising a helpless girl!"

Jack's eyes softened minutely. "Oh Alex, you just can't help yourself can you." It was a statement, not a question and Alex smiled grimly.

"I couldn't just ignore it."

"I know Alex, come on, dinners cold but I can heat it up for you. But you have to go get cleaned up first. Then we can have ice-cream."

"Chocolate chip?"

"I think I can scrounge some chocolate up." Jack grinned, pushing Alex up the stairs. "Go on."

Alex smiled, hauling himself up the stairs and disappearing around the corner. Jack moved to turn and head for the kitchen again but stopped when Alex appeared again.

"Oh, and Jack? The milk and bread is by the door."

Jack shook her head, rolling her eyes and glancing over towards the front door. Sure enough a flash of white and pink poked out from the top of Alex's backpack.

"I'm not sending you on anymore errands. Trouble just seems to follow you around, you could get seriously hurt." Jack grabbed the milk and bread, listening to Alex's laughter as it floated down the stairs from his room.

"I can't help it if I'm loved..."

**AN: Hi! Again, hope you enjoyed it! I know it was kinda boring but... yeah, no excuses except... I'm lazy.**

**Anyway, I'll write again soon. Lies. **


	6. F is for Freak

**AN: Hello! I want you all to thank... Lilywhitecherub for this sudden updating frenzy of all my fics. Yes you read right, all of them. Including caught, finally. I know I'm a horrible author for abandoning you all. But my writers block is gone so... I hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I remember the days when I used to make up something interesting here... *sigh* the good old days when hope was in the air...**

**Freak**

Alex Rider was used to being called a freak by the time his sixteenth birthday rolled around. He was used to the name calling and the practical jokes, the glares and the notes that were thrown at him in class, always containing some sort of harmful message.

What Alex was not used to, was finding himself, at the beginning of a brand new school day, being followed around by twenty-three girls and boys all intent on... well, he wasn't sure what they were intent on, as he was trying his best to ignore their presence.

He remembered when, back when he was fourteen, two or three students in his year level would follow him around, trying to act nonchalant as they stared at him, trying to figure out just exactly _what _was wrong with him. But at least they had been subtle.There is nothing subtle about a large group of kids following your every move.

Alex managed to ignore the big group of kids until the bell rang signalling the start of classes, unfortunately, many of them were in his class and even when they were meant to be working Alex could feel their eyes on him. Tom sat next to him, shifting around disconcertedly, frown prominent on his face. Alex told him to ignore them and went back to his work.

The same thing happened during science and maths, all Alex could concentrate on were the eyes drilling holes into the back of his head and he decided he hated this silent form of ridicule more than being called a freak and a druggy.

By lunch Alex had had enough. He sat in his corner of the cafeteria and glared at his sandwich, desperately ignoring the large crowd of kids that had congregated around his lonely table, still staring.

Tom continued to sit next to him, loyal through anything.

Finally, Alex snapped, he looked up and growled. "What?"

The kids continued to stare. Not a word was spoken. Alex clenched his jaw. Scanning the crowd. He got to his feet, Tom got up too and Alex started walking, away from the table and toward the bin. His appetite had left a while ago. The group followed.

Alex could feel a knot of stress growing bigger in his stomach. He really didn't like being stared at, it made it harder for him to sense danger.

He turned away from the bin and faced the kids.

"What!" he yelled. A few of them flinched, but all of them continued to stare. "What are you looking at?" Alex continued, exasperation and anger evident in his voice and in his stance. "Stop it!"

A smug smile caught Alex's attention and he turned toward it. Harvey Robinson's confident smile mocked him from the corner of the crowd.

"What are we looking at Rider? Why, we're looking at a Freak of course. A lousy, pathetic, drugged up Freak." Harvey laughed and a few people joined him.

Anger boiled up in Alex's chest, disintegrating the ball of stress and eliminating all rational thought. He lunged.

**AN: Okay, you can all hate me.... now. I know I said these fics were all unrelated... I guess I lied. No, they were going to be, but I just thought of something for G and thought, hey, I could make this into a two-shot. So, a two-shot this shall be. And remember, glaring me to death means I will be unable to finish writing the ending. **

**Sorry! From, Lies.**


	7. G is for Grounded

**AN: I am so very very very sorry that it took me so long to update! Feel free to run at me with pitch forks screaming for revenge.**

**Disclaimer: Hmm.. nope, I don't think my name is Anthony Horowitz... let me check my birth certificate... nope, it says right here... White. Black. Truth. Lies... Oh, well...**

**Grounded**

Needless to say, Alex Rider was not happy. After his little... 'accident' where he had lost his temper and attacked Harvey Robinson, a boy in his year who loved making his life hell, his life has been... well, hell. Jack had been murderous. The school had called her as soon as one of the cafeteria staff had managed to break up the fight, if it could be called a fight, does one kid pummelling another into the ground count as a fight? And told her what had happened. The way Jack saw it, her trust has been broken and Alex had been a stupid idiot. She reasoned that since Alex was so much more intelligent and so much stronger then Harvey, he should have been able to stop himself and not resort to brutal, uncalled for, down right childish actions to make the bully stop. She had sentenced him to three months of high security grounding. He went to school, came home from school and went straight to his room. She took his phone, his laptop, his Ipod and all the communications devices Smithers had ever given to him that MI6 let him keep, or didn't know about. He slept, ate, did his homework and went to school.

And as if his home life wasn't bad enough now. His little freak out had made him even more of an outcast then normal. People moved out of his way in the halls, some of the kids in younger years actually turned around and walked away from him if he went any where near them. The whispers turned into glares and the only person, teacher and students included, that would talk to him was Tom, and Alex could see even his best friend, _only_ friend, was disappointed in him. He felt like crap. It would have been fine if he had been right, he would have been able to run on the anger he would have felt at having been unfairly punished, but he knew what he had done was stupid and wrong. He knew that Jack was right and that he should never have put a hand on Harvey, he knew that he deserved to see Tom's disappointment every time he looked at his friend, he knew that he had lost control and that, more then anything, scared him. He had lost control. He had lost control at school, and he had hurt another human being, another _teenager, _somebody who was the same age as he was, someone who was weaker and smaller then he was. Some one who had been defenceless and by the end of everything, _scared _of him.

So, instead he drowned himself in self-pity. And, with no one there to comfort him he felt more and more depressed everyday. He couldn't believe he had done something so, so, disgusting! He moped around, not really noticing anything for weeks, and when Harvey came back to school, sporting many bruises and cuts and a broken arm, Alex put up with the glares he received and the hissed threats from Harveys' friends and tried not to feel worse when he noticed the slight edge of fear in Harveys' eyes when Alex walked into the room, or passed him in the corridor. He tried not to feel like a beast, or like one of the people he had fought to capture and stop in the last year. He tried not to feel anything and just focused on the fact that he was grounded and that if no one had stopped him it may have been something much worse then grounding he had to go through and Harvey may not have been there to glare and gloat anymore. And he thanked God that he was only grounded.

**AN: Did this make any sense at all? Once again, I am sorry this took so long to be updated. **


	8. H is for Helium

**AN: Not much to say... Oh, I know, I'll introduce the disclaimer! **

***clears throat importantly* ****All hail, The Disclaimer! … hmm... that didn't go as planned... oh well!**

**Helium**

Alex Rider hated balloons, well, not the balloon itself but the gas that made the balloons float. Helium. Whenever Alex saw balloons he couldn't help but laugh, and sometimes he ended up laughing in the worst situations possible. But it wasn't his fault! It was just that whenever he saw balloons he automatically thought of Tom and how he had gone though a whole stage a couple of months ago where he only talked when he had a balloon with him, because what happens when helium and your voice mix? Squeaky high pitched talking, and squeaky high pitched yelling, and squeaky high pitched laughing, and squeaky high pitched hiccups and sore stomachs for everyone around the squeaky high pitched teenager.

It wasn't fair that people looked at him funny just because he burst out laughing on the tube when a little girl holding a bright red balloon hoped on with her family, or glared at him when they thought he was laughing at them but was really looking at the house with the balloons tied to the front gate signalling a birthday party was being held there. It wasn't fair that Tom realised what was happening and took to walking around and randomly yelling BALLOON! at the top of his lungs. And it wasn't fair when Jack started too and Alex ended up waking up on his birthday to a balloon shaped chocolate cake and a balloon filled room. And when Blunt asked him to come in to the bank and then explained that his next mission was to 'observe' a balloon factory guilty of 'suspicious' activity Alex realised the world was against him, and decided that he really, really, really hated balloons, and helium.

**AN: Obviously this is me writing while high on chocolate, sorry bout that. Even so I hope you enjoyed it and I didn't kill too many brain cells. From, Lies.**


	9. I is for Itchy

**AN: Hello again! We have made it to the ninth letter in the English alphabet! YAY!**

**I'd just like to take a moment to thank all of my anonymous reviewers. So, thanks to; obsessivelyodd, upside down boat, x, and Amore! I'd also like to thank EVERYONE who has reviewed and read and most of all _enjoyed _my fics. Thank you so much. You make my heart happy. XD**

**Disclaimer: Nope, sorry, I'm afraid I don't own Alex Rider.**

**Itchy**

Alex Rider woke up on the seventeenth of May with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong, he just wasn't sure what. He got out of bed and stared with narrow eyes around his room, everything was exactly as he had left it the night before, except, Alex noticed, the sleeping bag Tom had slept in was empty. The uneasy feeling grew worse.

He walked out to the hall and glanced up and down, no visible traps could be seen, not that that mattered, Alex knew Tom was an expert at making things appear normal until after his prank had been played and his victim was left wondering what the hell had just happened. He made his way toward the bathroom, intent on having a shower before he went down to the kitchen for some much needed breakfast. His stomach rumbled in agreement as he turned the bathroom light on.

Ten minutes later, Alex turned off the taps and opened the shower stall door. He reached for his towel and sighed as he wrapped it around himself. Treading carefully he walked out of the bathroom and back to his room. He felt an itch crawling across his back and squirmed uncomfortably before getting dressed. Scratching his shoulder blades he made his way down the stairs, the itch seemed to be spreading, down his back, across his neck and stomach, finding its way down his legs and arms.

He scratched frantically, is skin was becoming red and irritated. What was going on? Why... Alexs' thoughts cut off as he noticed Tom sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, happily chewing on a mouthful of pancakes and trying to hold in his laughter. He swallowed and gave up trying, bursting into hysterics as Alex growled. "Tom... you better tell me you have nothing to do with this or you'll be in a lot of pain in less then three seconds." He hissed. Tom just kept laughing, until finally, he fell out of his chair and onto the floor. Alex kept scratching, glaring at Tom as if he had suddenly acquired laser beams that would fry Tom if he managed to glare hard enough. "You're in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"What?" Tom asked, innocently. "It's not like I have a stash of itching powder in my bag that just so happened to accidentally _fall_ onto your towel this morning when I woke up, I don't have anything to do with this." Tom smiled.

Alex glared. "You are so dead." He snapped. And he lunged.

**AN: Alright. Slightly strange and totally random idea popped into my head for no reason. However, I hope you liked it! From, Lies.**


	10. J is for Jack

**AN: Hello, gosh, we're up to J already XD**

**I hope you enjoy the letter J of the alphabet.**

**Disclaimer: No, I'm afraid I don't own Alex Rider, maybe I'll find a magic lamp and wish for the rights... and an awesome monkey named Abu...**

**Jack**

Alex Rider was seven years old when he was confronted with a sunny, energetic, red haired American girl with a funny accent and was told she was going to look after him from now on.

He soon found out that this strange woman's name, was Jack.

Alex wondered over her for a couple of days, taking in the way she laughed at things that weren't funny, and didn't laugh at things that were funny. Trying to figure out why she always yelled at the stove, or why she got confused when he talked about football. Puzzling over her strange ten minute meals and running away from her when she tried to make him sit down and get his hair cut.

Alex found that she was just strange. Very strange. But, he found himself thinking, he kinda liked her. She was funny, in her own way, and made him laugh, and was always home when he got back from school. She never turned up in the middle of the night after having disappeared for weeks, pretending nothing had happened, and she always tucked him in at night. She was nice, and safe, and after awhile, she became a familiar, and loved, part of his life.

So, when Ian came back from one of his business trips and announced that Jacks' services were no longer needed, Alex did something he had never done in his life. He shouted at his uncle.

He screamed his little lungs out about how Ian was never home and he loved Jack, and he had no right to take Jack away from him. Ian just stood there, in the kitchen, shocked that his well behaved nephew was shouting at him. Alex moved across the room and grasped Jacks' hand. "If she leaves I leave too!" He announced. Ian raised his eyebrows and glanced at Jack who looked confused over whether she should look scared or happy. The result was a strange mixture of both that managed to make her look creepy.

"Alex..." she whispered.

Ian looked down at his nephew, studying him closely. "Alex, do you want to think about what you're saying? I won't..."

"No, Jack stays or I go." Alex declared before leaving the room, pulling Jack behind him.

Two hours later Ian had walked into the backyard where Alex and Jack had been kicking a football back and forth and told Jack she could keep her job. That day signalled the final step in Alex' growing friendship with the red-haired American called Jack.


	11. K is for koala

**K is for Koala**

Ian stared out the window of the cab as it pulled into his driveway. He had been gone for a month this time and the mission hadn't gone very well. He shifted in his seat and rolled his left shoulder anxiously. MI6 hadn't been happy.

"That'll be $22.50." The cab driver spoke.

Ian sighed and dug out his wallet. "Thanks, mate." He opened the car door and pulled out his backpack. The boot popped open and he walked around and grabbed his suitcase, slamming the boot shut and waving as the cabbie drove away. Ian glanced at his watch. 3:45AM. Great. He'd get three hours sleep and then have to get up and go into work and explain why his mission went bust. He could already feel a headache waiting behind his eyes.

Sighing in self-pity he trudged up to the front door and let himself into the house. He'd check on Alex and then go to bed. His mind pictured the warm light blue blankets and soft white pillow for him and he yawned. He was getting too old for this.

He walked up the stairs and around the corner. The house was dark and quiet, Alex's bedroom door was open and a crack of light washed out into the hallway. Ian peered in. Alex had fallen asleep with a book open on his chest and his lamp still on. Light blonde hair fell over his eyes, his chest rose and fell slowly and he snored softly. Ian smiled. He put his suitcase down and opened his backpack. Digging around he found what he was looking for and pulled it out.

Quietly, so he didn't wake his nephew he walked over to Alex's bed and closed the book, making sure to mark the place Alex had fallen asleep at. He put his gift next to Alex's sleeping body and pushed the hair from his eyes. Alex stirred and curled around the little koala, his fringe falling right back into his eyes. Ian frowned slightly and closed his eyes. Breathing in deeply he turned away and flicked off the blue lamp on Alex's bedside table. Walking out of the room and closing the door silently.

**AN: So that was K! Hope you liked it. Next up, L is for Luck XD**


	12. L is for Luck

**Disclaimer: Heh heh heh... no.**

**L is for Luck**

John Rider swallowed nervously as he stared up at the Devil. He was sweating from the intense heat burning up from the pits of hell but the Devil seemed cool and composed, twirling his forked tail around his fingers in a bored fashion. John tried not to think about his thirst as he cleared his dry throat.

The Devil looked down at him, frowning angrily. "So, you want me to grant your request, for nothing in return?"

John swallowed again. "Well, yes, I mean, that is to say, no?"

The Devil laughed; a high, tinny sound that grated on Johns' nerves and made him take a step back. The Devil noticed and laughed harder. "You've got guts! Coming down here, without an invitation and _alive _as well..." The Devil clicked his fingers and a list appeared in a puff of smoke. "Let's see here..." He grasped the end of his tail and licked the tip before holding it over the paper and writing a few notes. "Yes, well... mhmm.. Alright. Well. It seems that I'm down on my good will services that St. Peter _insists_ I provide. Can't argue with the higher ups you know!" The Devil laughed. "Get it?" He pointed up. "Higher ups?" John laughed nervously. The Devil kept chuckling to himself, shaking his head as he studied his sheet. "So, I guess, since you've entertained me so much, and believe me," the Devil leaned forward as if he was whispering a well guarded secret. "There is very little to entertain me down here." He winked. "I guess I can grant your request."

He whistled and a little puffball bounced forward from a hole in the cave wall that John hadn't noticed before. A tiny arm emerged from the little creature and it handed the Devil another sheet of paper. The Devil licked the tip of his tail again and wrote a sentence on the sheet. He held it out to John. "Just sign here and you shall have what you wished for." John approached anxiously and looked down at the sheet of paper. The Devil held out the end of his tail and John took it, grimacing inwardly at the slimy, scaly feel. He signed his name and the Devil smiled, signing The Devil in big swirly writing. The paper disappeared from the room with a loud pop and the Devil leapt to his feet. "From now on!" He announced in a loud voice. "You, John Rider! And all of your descendants shall have... THE LUCK OF THE DEVIL!"

And he began to laugh as John was guided out of the main cave by the same puffball that had handed the Devil the sheet of paper.

**AN: Sooo... what did you think?**


	13. M is for Machete

**Disclaimer: If I owned Alex Rider, millions of people would be unhappy and come looking for my blood, and I don't want to be responsible for millions of murders, the paperwork would be killer. XD**

**M is for Machete**

Alex sighed, resting his head against the cold coffee shop window. The glass in front of his face immediately began to fog up. Alex breathed a little harder. Watching the mist spread out into a large, misshapen blob. He closed his eyes and opened them again. The fog was dissipating. Alex watched it fade, staring until it was gone. Then he looked out the window properly. And froze. There was a man standing outside, on the other side of the street, staring at him. He looked vaguely familiar and Alex wracked his brains, trying to figure out where he knew him from, the answer could mean life or death.

The man caught him staring and his lips quirked up into a sort of half-smile. Alex shuddered, looking down. He looked back up to see the man making his way over.

Chills ran up Alex's spine. His instincts telling him something was wrong. He stood up, grabbing his bag from the seat beside him and walking quietly across the shop. He swore loudly as he walked into the girl who had been bringing him his tea and hot liquid burned his skin. Although it had been his fault for not watching where he was going the girl was apologizing profusely trying to help him clean up by dabbing at him with a napkin. Alex pulled away from her, apologized hurriedly and looked back up and out the window. The man was gone. A jolt of fear shot through Alex's limbs and he started running to the front door. He had to get out of the shop or he'd be trapped.

He reached the door and pulled it ope. As he did so, somebody grabbed his arm tightly and pulled him forward. He stumbled but made up for it by kicking his leg out and up. His knee collided with the mans stomach and his grip loosened. Alex pulled free and started running, dodging and weaving through the mass of people rushing along the sidewalk.

The man hadn't been wearing a mask to hide his identity which meant that he was fairly confident that Alex wouldn't get away from him, and that he was stupid. But why attack in the middle of the day? When there are a thousand witnesses and no shadows to hide you?

Alex was dying to look behind him so he could see if the man was following him, or rather, how far away he was, because there was no doubt in Alex's mind that he _was_ following him. But turning around would cost him seconds, seconds he might not have. So he kept running, looking straight ahead and trying to think about how he was going to lose the man. Trying to think about where he could go. He knew he couldn't go to Tom's or make his way home, that would be putting Tom and Jack in danger and he cared too much for them to do that. Alex smiled. He had the perfect place. One where he knew no one he cared about. He pulled out his phone and dialed 33124712, MI6's ridiculously long panic signal. Then he changed directions, heading to the Royal and General bank.

The change in directions allowed him to glance at the man from the corner of his eye. He wasn't far behind and he was holding something that glinted in his hand. Someone screamed and Alex realised what it was. A machete.

The man was gaining ground, shoving pedestrians out of his way, a murderous glint in his eyes. Alex wasn't sure he could out run the assassin and if he caught up, Alex wouldn't be able to fight him off. Not when the man was armed with a bloody machete and Alex had nothing to defend himself with. The only thing he could do was keep running and hope that MI6 finally decided to take one of his distress calls seriously.

He turned a corner, apologizing to a young couple as he ran between them, pushing them apart. The man yelled after him angrily, the girl trying to calm him down. Alex kept running. The Royal and General was in sigh now. He only had to run another fifty or so meters and he would be safe. He ran faster; faster than he thought possible. His world narrowed until all he could think about was getting to MI6, all he could see was the double doors that he usually dreaded going through. Searing pain bloomed along his shoulder and Alex gasped, faltering. He was pushed savagely and he fell to the ground. He rolled instinctively as he landed and watched the machete's blade strike the concrete. He rolled onto his feet, stumbling back as he slipped off the sidewalk and onto the road. The man growled at him, swinging his blade again. Alex dodged, bringing his arm up and punching the man. The assassin didn't even notice the hit, he just swung the blade, spinning it around expertly, showing off, confident as he swaggered up to Alex.

Alex was breathing heavily, his arm bleeding badly. The man swung and Alex turned, running as fast as he could towards headquarters.

Don't look back Alex, don't look back, you can do this, he chanted to himself. He kept running, pushing his aching muscles faster, further.

An arm wrapped around his waist and Alex screamed. "HELP!" His heart was pumping over time, panic filling his body, flooding his mind and making it hard for him to think. "HELP!" he struggled against the hold, the assassin growled in his ear, shoving hims so hard he stumbled and fell to the ground. He was only ten meters away from the Royal and General. He couldn't believe this was happening. Alex tried to her to his feet but his ankle seared with pain and he fell back onto the ground. The man brought the machete up. Alex closed his eyes.

There was a cry, a grunt and the sound of steel hitting concrete. Alex opened his eyes. The assassin lay on the ground next to him bleeding heavily from a head wound. Alex looked down. There was another bullet hole in his chest. MI6 agents surrounded Alex protectively. Alex sighed, thankful it was over. He tilted his head up as the smell of peppermint filled his nose.

"Nice to see you, Mrs Jones." Alex smiled dryly. "Out for a casual afternoon stroll?"

Mrs Jones shook her head, dark eyes surveying the scene around her as Alex collapsed against an agent, exhaustion finally taking hold of him.

"Oh, Alex, only you." She breathed.

"Get him inside, call St. Dominics, Gerderor, tell them to get down to the bank as quickly as possible." She barked, turning to walk back into the Royal and General. This had to stop.

_AN: SO... Hi XD I hope you liked it, and I'm sorry it took so long. Another chapter of Elimination is in the works, as well as the next chapter of Fed Up which is half complete and Growing Up is slowly progressing. Please be patient. I'm sorry XD Next three chapters have already been written and just need to be typed up, hopefully this won't take long but I am working non stop over the summer holidays because of booklist season. _

_Til next time, Lies ~.~_


	14. N is for Numb

**N is for Numb**

Alex felt numb inside. Jack's parents were crying on the other side of the large hole in the dirt. Friends and relatives were all huddled together under umbrella's, sadness in their faces and anguish in their eyes.

Alex stood apart from them all, feeling empty as he stared at his best friend's, his sister's, his mother's coffin sink slowly into the ground.

He knew he should be crying. He knew he should be feeling pain and sadness ripping him in two. But all he felt was an emptiness that hollowed him out and made him feel numb and tired.

He just wanted this to be over. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

He had failed. Messed up and it had cost Jack her life.

They were handing out flowers now. Everyone took one and walked up in one's and two's to throw them into Jack's grave.

Alex stood there for a little longer and sighed. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I'm going to miss you so much. Thank you for always being there. I love you."

He let his flower drop and turned away.

Other people continued to walk up and pay their last respects as Alex walked away.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. Please, forgive me."

**And another depressing chapter from yours truly XD**

**Next chapter is O. O is for Okay XD Please review XD**


	15. O is for Okay

**O is for Okay**

"I told you I'm _okay_, Tom!"

"You're not okay, Alex! You're breaking up inside. I'm your best friend. Your _only _friend. Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying, Tom. I'm okay, there's no need to worry."

Tom reached out and grabbed Alex's shoulder. "You're not okay, Alex."

Alex spun around. ""Who are you to tell me whether or not I'm fine? Have _you_ been through what _I've _been through? Done what _I've _done?"

Tom shook his head. "No, I haven't, but you have and the way you're acting lately, it's scaring me."

"You shouldn't be scared. I'm okay, Tom. Just leave it."

Alex shoved Tom's hand away and turned around.

"I'm not leaving it, Alex."

Alex paused, and then continued walking away. "Whatever, Tom, do what you want."

Tom stopped at the cold tone of Alex's voice before calling after him.

"You're not okay!"

**P is for Push everybody! XD Review!**


	16. P is for Push

**P is for Push**

"I know what you're doing."

Alex raised his eyebrows at the knowing tone in Tom's voice. "I'm not doing anything."

Tom shook his head. "You're pushing everyone away. All of your friends, Jack, Sabina, even me."

Alex snorted. "That's ridiculous. I'm not pushing anyone away."

"When's the last time you spoke to Sabina?"

Alex paused. "Monday."

"No you didn't. You're lying. I spoke to Sabina, Al, she hasn't heard from you in over a month. And Jack says she barely ever sees you anymore even though you live in the same house."

Alex frowned. "You spoke to Sabina? Were you checking up on me?"

"I'm worried about you, Al. What are you trying to accomplish? Pushing everyone away will just make you more lonely and depressed."

"I'm not-"

"You are!"

"Tom! I'm no-"

"STOP DENYING IT!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU ANYMORE!"

Tom blinked. "Hurt-"

"I wreck everything I touch. Hurt everyone I come into contact with. I can't stand it anymore. I don't want to hurt people."

"Alex…"

"Please, Tom, just drop it."

Tom looked at his best friend sadly. "I think you're wrong. You've never hurt me before, or jack. We're your friends, Alex, stop pushing us away before you do hurt us."

Alex sighed. "It's not that easy."

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

Alex frowned.

"Just, stop pushing us away."

"I'll try Tom, but no promises."

"No promises."

**Q: I don't like you**

**Lies: Well I don't like you!**

**Q: You write horribly!**

**Lies: You smell horribly!**

**Q: Whatever**

**Lies: Q is for Quarrel XD hahah I'm lameeee…**


	17. Q is for Quarrel

**I believe that a warning is needed here. After all of the angst and depressing situations I have put the characters through I decided I needed a break. So this is a completely random and terrifying one-shot that has no structure or purpose what so ever. Feel free to completely skip it. Or you could just read on in that horrified interest you get when you drive past a car crash… **

**Q is for Quarrel**

Alan Blunt was angry. So angry in fact that Tulip almost thought better of continuing to yell at him. Unfortunately she decided she wasn't scared enough of him to do that. So she kept yelling. And yelling, and yelling, and yelling, until Alan Blunt was cowering in a corner of his office with a pillow that had randomly appeared next to him held over his face to protect himself. Tulip reached for her bag of killer peppermints and scooped up a handful. Alan tried to crawl away, knowing nothing good happened when Tulip pulled out the minty sweets.

Tulip huffed and threw one of the peppermints at her boss. "Why. Won't. You. Give. Me. A. PAYRISE?" She screamed, throwing peppermints as she shrieked each word. As they hit their mark they exploded into millions of minty pieces. Blunt cried out, "no! Not the sugary sweetness! I can't stand nice things!"

Tulip laughed evilly. "This is the last time you cross me, Blunt! We will not stand for this any more! We want marshmallows in the tea room and fluffy bunny pets and real guns!" She demanded.

Blunt shook his head. "You have real guns!"

Tulip scoffed and pulled out the pistol holstered to her hip. She squeezed the trigger and Blunt squealed as he was hit in the face with a stream of water. He stopped and blinked.

"What?" He seemed genuinely confused and Tulip stopped.

"You didn't know?" She asked. Blunt shook his head. "Then where are the real guns?" Tulip asked.

Suddenly there was the sound of maniacal laughter and Alan craned his head around Tulip to see out his office door. Tulip turned around too and gasped as she noticed Alex and Tom Harris standing in the door holding armfuls of real guns. They ran away and Tulip listened to their insane laughter until they got on the elevator and it was impossible to hear it any more.

Tulip looked at Alan and blinked. "Well, that was unexpected." She said, before popping a peppermint in her mouth.

***Looks on with wide eyes at what she just unleashed on the world* Okkaaaayyyy… Review XD Those of you that survived that is XD**


	18. R is for Rutilant

_AN: The defintion of Rutilant is: Shining or glowing with red light_

_This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Upside-Down-Boat who introduced me to the word Rutilant and is just all around awesome. This is for you glowy, I hope your days are glowin' XD_

_Disclaimer: I do not nor ever will own Alex Rider, I've resigned myself to that fact and have set my sights on a new goal, Cherub's, here I come :)_

_R is for Rutilant_

Today was the day. Today was the day I was finally going to talk to her. Marcy Jane. The cutest, most sweetest, most fit girl in the entire school, if not all of England. Today she was finally going to acknowledge my existance.

Tom Harris smiled at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He had fixed his hair until it stuck up in perfect spikes. His teeth had been brushed twice, he'd used mouth wash once and flossed three times. He had washed his face with _pimple preventer_ cream and done a series of meditative exercises designed to slow his heartbeat and relax his muscles. He had never been so nervous in his life. Except for that day when Alex had dared him to eat four hot dogs, a one litre tub of ice-cream and three sticks of cotton candy in an hour. That had been nerve-wracking.

"Tom! Time to leave! You'll be late if you don't get your butt down here and out that door!"

Tom grabbed his bag, glanced at his reflection in the mirror again, rearranged a few spikes and called back down to his mum. "Coming!"

He heard a huff as he closed his bedroom door and hurried down the stairs. He kissed his frantic looking mum on the cheek and left, slamming the door loudly as he ran for his bike. If he rode fast enough he could catch Marcy before first period.

–

Somehow she looked better than she had the day before and the day before _that._ Tom wasn't sure how that was possible and frankly, he didn't care. He just couldn't believe how amazingly cute she was. She was hanging around her locker with a group of her friends. Tom swallowed nervously, wondering if he could cause a distraction that would make all of her friends leave but make Marcy stay behind. Tom shook his head. He didn't think so, if there was a way, the male species would have a _lot_ to be thankful for.

Tom walked slowly up to the group, hovering 'casually' around the edges, trying to look nonchalant, _cool._ He winced as one of Marcy's friends noticed him and laughed, nudging the girl next to her. Marcy looked up.

"Hi?" She smiled slightly, looking confused.

Tom flushed red. His entire face growing hot as he gazed at her. "Uh... um... hi?" _Why did he phrase that like a question?_ What was _wrong_ with him?

"Can I help you?" Marcy asked, tossing her hair back and glancing at her friend to the left.

"Um.. well, yes, uh, I-I-I..."

"Yes?"

Tom flushed harder, if that was even possible and looked at his feet, studying the worn converse.

"Uh-"

"Tom!" Tom jumped as Alex popped up from nowhere, slinging an arm across his shoulders, he grinned at the gaggle of girls and announced loudly.

"Why, Tom my friend, you're looking rather rutilant today!"

Tom flushed brighter, confused. Rutilant? What did that mean?

"Hi, Marcy." Alex smiled, before turning to Tom. "The bell's about to go, come with me to get my books?"

Tom nodded slowly, letting Alex guide him away from the mortifying scene.

"Alex?" Alex hummed. "What's rutilant mean?"


	19. S is for Slime

_S is for Slime_

Tom Harris glared into the grimy mirror that hung, above the sinks in the boys toilets. Green slime slid down his forehead and as he reached for some of the cheapskate toilet paper the school bought for the students toilets it slipped its way into his eye.

"AHHH!" Tom cried as his right eye burst into fire. His hand flew up as he scrunched his eye shut, making the burn worse. He scrambled for the top, turning the faucet on high and ducking his head down as he cupped his hands under the spray. He splashed his face, drenching the front of his shirt as he tried to hold his eye open and dunk it into the pool of water running quickly from his palms at the same time. The burn decreased slightly but now his eye felt dry. HE JUST COULDN'T WIN!

He scrubbed at his eye viciously with the scrap of toilet paper he had managed to half tear off from the roll. Finally he stopped, breathing heavily. He stared at his reflection with a grimace, his right eye was a ferocious red.

Suddenly the bell went. Tom looked at his water splattered watch and back up at his red eye, soaked shirt and green slime covered hair and groaned. Then he turned around and walked out of the bathroom, cursing the midget year sevens and their evil tendancies.

Kids stared aand laughed as he walked down the hallway to his locker. He was going to get his bag and then skip his last two classes of the day. He was _not_ going to walk around like _this_ for the rest of the day. He wanted a shower and he wanted one _now. _A group of year eight boys ran past, turning back to snigger at him in amusement. Marcy Jane giggled into her hand and turned to whisper into one of her friends ears. Tom turned beet red and sped up a little while trying to make it look like he wasn't speeding up. By the cackle of laughter that grew louder as he turned the corner, he hadn't succeeded.

"Tom?" Tom spun around quickly at the sound of his name. Alex stood at his locker, books piled in his hands.

"Uh... hi, Alex." Tom replied, before sighing. "Shut up."

Alex grinned. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, right, just help me go beat up those bloody year sevens' would you?" Tom groaned.

"Why, I think they improved your look quite a bit." Alex smirked.

Tom glared at him. "I'm going home, can you make up some excuse for Traverty?"

Alex nodded, "sure. But are you sure you don't want to stay? I reckon you could start a new trend. Alien slime snot hair!"

Tom stared at Alex. "Yee- No..."

Alex smiled. "Alright, I'll make your excuses, just go home and wash that crap out, you look like the inside of th ogre's nose from Harry Potter."

Tom rose an eyebrow. Alex thought of the weirdest things some times. He shook his head. Ah well. "Thanks, Al."


	20. T is for Tea

**AN: Hi everybody! Sorry for the long, long, long wait! I'm going to use my age long excuse of school but update it to year TWELVE being annoying and time consuming. I can't believe I'm already there… Anyway… I hope you enjoy this chapter, the next one should be up soon XD**

**Dedication: To Boat, who made this chapter happen by being an amazingly lovely friend and saving this chapter from toilet paper and typing it up for me while I dictated, forever changing my mind and confusing her with my terrible grammar. You're an awesome ninja Melon Lord Boaty XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider! And it's been confirmed that I never shall. So… I'm off to go find out if I can steal ownership of the Inheritance Cycle… Toodle-oo!**

**T is for Tea**

Alex sat at the kitchen table, open school books strewn all around him. He was in the middle of a marathon homework session, four straight hours, no breaks in between. He was on a roll.

Already, he had caught up on two months worth of English homework, six weeks' worth of Math, five French lessons, and he was in the middle of his last exercise for Physics. After that, he only needed to check over a couple of History essays and do some Chemistry theory so he was prepared for the practical lesson on Monday.

Alex flipped the page of his Physics book and sighed. Almost done. He was looking forward to a well-earned rest. He put pen to paper, paused and smiled up at Jack as she entered the kitchen.

"Alex!" Jack exclaimed. "You're still working! Have you had a break? Something to drink? Eat? Anything?"

She quizzed. Alex shook his head without looking up. He was in the zone.

"Oh dear, that's not good," she cried. "I'll make you some tea, and it's almost dinner. How about I order pizza? You deserve it after working so hard." Jack turned around to the kettle, still talking.

"How's everything going? Almost done?"

Alex looked up, putting his pen down. It seemed Jack was making him take a break, he wouldn't be able to keep working and talking to her at the same time.

"I'm almost done. I should be able to finish Physics before dinner, then I'll leave the last few things until tomorrow. My brain is fried."

Jack laughed, taking the kettle and pouring boiling water into two cups with teabags. "Well, I'm proud of you honey. You're really trying your best to catch up."

Alex smiled, nodding as she picked up the tea and sat down. "Here you go honey." She slid the tea over to his side of the bench; Alex gasped.

The cup hit the edge of his French book and toppled over. "NO!" Alex cried. Tea soaked into his books, and washed all over his lap. It sloshed over the edge of the table like a tea waterfall, cascading to the floor.

Alex jumped up, in pain from the hot tea and the scene of hours and hours of homework going down the drain. Jack was on her feet, hand over her mouth.

"Oh my gosh, oh my, Alex! I'm _so, so, so _sorry!" Alex stood at the bench, surveying the damage. His chair was toppled on the floor. He was burnt and soaking. There was a tea puddle on the linoleum floor and all of his books were discoloured, the pencil washing away…

Alex winced as the teacup rolled off the table and smashed on the floor. Everything was silent except for the drip, drip, drip of tea.

"I can't believe that just happened," Alex whispered. Jack stared at him, wide eyed. Alex turned around and walked out of the room. Jack heard him trudging up the stairs, the sound like a funeral march. She shook her head and sighed.

Upstairs, the bathroom door closed. Jack steadied herself as the shower turned on. She looked down at the floor; the tea was making its way toward the hallway. There was a loud bang from upstairs and Jack gasped.

"Alex, don't drown yourself!"

_Three hours later…_

Jack Starbright sat on a hard wooden chair in the kitchen, the kettle in the bin and all the teabags too. On the table around her sat many high school text books; pages and pages of crumpled up notes were scattered around her.

To the left, a pile of sodden homework sat cold and abandoned. Jack stared at the paper in front of her, and picked up her pen. She stared hard at the Physics book before her and growled.

"Grrr, how does Alex do this every day!" She put pen to paper and wrote three words and several exclamation marks. Then she threw her pen in the air, stood up, glared down at the books, and walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs and to her bedroom. In the morning Alex would go downstairs, look at the abandoned kettle and teabags and go over to his homework where he would see those three words, and laugh.

_I hate tea!_


	21. U is for Unconscious

U is for Unconscious

Alex Rider stared at his best friend in disbelief. Tom had just appeared out of nowhere, zooming past on his bike in a blur of red and white. He was looking straight at Alex, a grin stretched across his lips so he didn't even see the car as it spun out of control.

Boy and machine had collided with such force Alex wasn't sure how Tom hadn't been thrown all the way across Chelsea. Now he was sitting by Tom's side, hands moving shakily over his body in search of injuries. He felt numb, disjointed; like he wasn't really here, in this place, in this moment. He could hear gasping breaths and at first he thought it was Tom, struggling to breathe- then he realised it was him, hyperventilating.

He made himself stop and breathed in deeply. Holding the breath and letting it out slowly. In and out, in and out, in and-

"Son, back away now."

Alex startled, head jerking up to look at the voice. His vision swam, his eyes stung and he realised he was crying.

"It's okay son, but you have to let us through, let him go."

The voice was rough but warm; trustworthy.

"Tom..." Alex croaked, voice cracking.

"You know this boy?" The voice asked.

Alex didn't answer, just looked back down at his friend, lying in the gutter, clothes ripped and skin torn.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before the voice spoke again; it felt like hours but he knew they wouldn't leave him alone for more than a couple of seconds.

"Son," the voice was closer now, right in his ear, and its tone was warmer, kindly. "You have to let us help your friend. Please just let him go."

Alex stared down at Tom and blinked. Suddenly everything seemed more vibrant. A roar of noise assaulted his ears; car horns and alarms, people shouting and screaming. Lights flashed before his eyes and the middle aged, blonde paramedic spun into focus. Alex realised he was gripping Toms' clothes in a white handed grip and he let go stiffly, shoving himself away.

Immediately the paramedic moved forward, checking vital signs.

Alex stared unseeingly.

Another paramedic ran up and the blonde looked up. "The boy is breathing, heart beat's strong, he's stable, go and get a stretcher." He glanced over at Alex. "This is his friend, treat him for shock, he seems pretty out of it." The paramedic nodded and came over, grasping Alex' arm and guiding him over to an ambulance. Alex kept an eye on Tom the entire time, not looking away, even as they loaded him onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Alex accepted the paramedics fussing with little response, wiping his eyes.

"Alex!" And suddenly he was enveloped in a warm, familiar hug, long red hair blinding him as Jack started speaking too fast for him to register what she was saying.

"Jack-"

"It's going to be okay, Alex." Jack cut him off. "We'll go and visit him as soon as we're able, but first we're going home so you can rest." Jack looked him in the eye. "He's okay, Alex. The paramedics say he's fine, it's only a broken arm."

Alex nodded, breathing in deeply. "Okay, Jack." He got to his feet and allowed her to pull him to her car.

He looked back at the accident scene one last time before getting into the passenger seat. Tom was going to be okay.


	22. V is for Vegetables

V is for Vegetables

"Alex, eat your vegetables."

"No."

"Alex..."

"No!"

"If you don't-"

"I won't!"

"Alex Rider-"

"NO!"

Ian Rider sighed, he couldn't believe his little nephew was being so fussy about a couple of _vegetables._

He thought Alex had passed this stage; he always seemed to eat them for Jack.

"Alex, please just-"

"No."

Ian groaned, "fine, don't eat them." He glanced slyly at Alex- would reverse psychology work?

"Okay!"

No, no it wouldn't. Bribery? "Alex, if you eat your vegetables you can have a treat for dessert."

"No."

Okay, bribery didn't work either... threats! "Alex, if you don't eat your vegetables you can't have dessert."

"I don't care." Alex pouted, glaring down at the offending greenery.

Ian clenched his fists, he hadn't wanted to resort to it but it looked like he'd have to try- begging. "Please, Alex, can you please just eat your vegetables for me?"

Alex eyed him for a moment before sticking his chin in the air. "No."

Ian closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. He couldn't do this, where was Jack when he needed her? "Fine, you're going to sit at this table until you finish them." Ian set down his verdict and got up from the table, washed his plate and left the room. Alex wouldn't stay up there all night, he was too hyperactive, he would eat the vegetables just so he could get up and run around.

An hour passed and Ian got up from the couch, set his book on the coffee table and padded out to the kitchen to wash Alex' plate. He was sure the boy would have eaten his vegetables and run up to his room by now. Ian stopped dead in the doorway to the kitchen. Alex still sat stiffly in his chair, vegetables untouched on his plate. Ian stared at him in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. He shook his head and turned around, heading back to the couch, he hadn't realised his nephew was such a determined little boy.

Two hours later and Ian was glancing up at the clock every five minutes. He had yet to see Alex walk up the stairs to his room. He had sincerely believed Alex would sulk for five minutes and then just eat the damn vegetables but it looked like he had underestimated his little ward. It was nearing nine-thirty and he was expecting Jack back from her night out any minute now. He was sure this entire situation could have been avoided if she had been here from the start.

Ian woke up with a start. He glanced at his watch. It was quarter past ten. He wondered when he had fallen asleep and stood up. His book fell from his lap with a thud and he yawned. Alex! Ian gasped and rushed out to the kitchen, intending to apologise. He was sliding into the kitchen on socked feet when he came to an abrupt halt. Alex was eating his vegetables and talking to Jack animatedly. Jack was sipping at a cup of tea and listening with an intense, earnest expression. Ian deflated with a sigh and Jack looked up, one eyebrow raised in question. Ian shook his head and looked back at Alex. He couldn't believe it. He smiled, his shoulders started shaking and then he laughed out loud.

Alex turned around and stared at him.

"From now on," Ian announced, "when Jack goes out, we have take-out, no more vegies."


End file.
